exhuxperation | 04. mental link

[Ren peels away from their battleground in a rage, saber gripped tight in his left hand, the right pressed to his side for a few long strides before he clears the still-open doorway that leads back to Hux's apartment. It's an almost instantaneous shift, how quick he is to let go of all restraint: the coffee table's overturned with a howl, followed by anything within arm's reach— glass shatters, metal clatters to the floor— it's a fit brought on by more than what was left at his back.

One that General Hux will be forced to endure, as he so often must.]

[ Of all places to be, he's in the shower. The past few days have been filled with nothing but tension and he feels like he can't relax. So, he'd turned the water the hottest it could go, trying to will some of the stress out of his body so he could rest easier.

Unfortunately, life has other plans. He's just gotten soaked through when he feels the press of Ren's mind against his own. It's nearly suffocating, with how much fury is tapping at the mental barrier between them. Snapping out of his haze, he flips the water off, stepping out to grab the towel and cover himself. He's not fast enough to stop the initial destruction– wincing when he hears the coffee table overturn, the howl on its heels and the distinct crunch of shattering glass.

Still, he's never been afraid of Ren, no matter how much he destroys. Flinging the door open, he strides down the small hallway that connects to his room, halting just in the doorway as the chaos is unfolding. ]

Just what do you think you're doing!

[Hux's indignant remark only brings Ren to a halt after a too-long beat, chest heaving he turns, a few wayward curls of dark hair hanging in front of his eyes.]

How could you not know. [Did he not feel it? Hear it? Was his training so worthless that for all the gains he made under Ren's guidance, he remains blind to what lies only a short distance from his door?]

-She- is here.

[ Of course. Of course that's what this is about. It always comes back to that point, doesn't it? Hux's expression darkens into a scowl, reflexively clenching his jaw. The scavenger girl that Ren had seen fit to chase after. That he'd lost sight of the mission for. Had discarded the idea of capturing the robot that could give them cold hard facts. Instead, he'd played cat and mouse with the girl, said she was strong with the Force, said he could teach her.

She'd wriggled free of his grasp and defeated him. Left him bleeding in the snow– who else could it have been? Who else could've given him the clean cauterized scar across his face and shoulder?

Glancing at the floor only to watch where he was stepping, he crosses closer to Ren, lips still thinned unhappily. ]

Put that out. [ He gestures to the lightsaber, not enjoying the crackle and hum so close. ]

I know she's here, I ran into her earlier, that scavenger girl. [ And while he wants her out of the way (she knows too much), there isn't a way to stop her. Not here, with them all connected. Killing a member of the nest is nearly the same as committing suicide. The pain feels the same. ]

Remember where we are, Ren. What we're a part of. You might not care for the rest of her brood, but think before you engage her in a fight– the rest of your brood is going to have to feel every strike.

[His lightsaber's extinguished in an instant, thrown unceremoniously to the floor and replaced by the front of Hux's jaw, locked a menacingly tight grip. Ren drags him closer, grabs Hux's wrist with his opposite hand and bears it down across the scorched wound at his ribs, still flush with cauterizing heat.]

You feel it.

[His fingers tremble for all their tension; expression twisted with a feral scowl. Go on, Hux. Chastise him as you like, berate him for his lust for combat.

—And know that she struck him first.]

Edited 2016-08-21 05:30 (UTC)

[ Ren moves fast. He always has; something to do with the Force maybe. Or just his training over time. Whatever the case, Hux finds himself pulled closer and then held in place. Ren's fingers dig into his jaw, sure to leave bruises. His other hand is curled around Hux's wrist, pulling it towards and then onto the wound along his ribs. He flinches his palm away from residual heat emanating from the cut.

This tells him at least one thing: the scavenger girl has a lightsaber of her own. There are other weapons that leave this kind of mark, but that seems the most likely.

Curling his fingers into a fist, he digs his nails into his palm, hating how weak he feels. How trapped. Staring at Ren dead in the face, his frown disappears, face going impassive aside from the flint in his eyes. ]

Let go.

She meant to kill me. [Had he been slower by a fraction of a second, had he not heeded that sickening whisper of the Force between them, she likely would have. How far off the mark a few inches seem until they're measured against the target of one's own heart.

The words are spat out with palpable vitriol - never has he felt more disturbingly mortal than he does in this instant, roughly obliging when at last he nearly shoves the General from his side.]

[ Ren's hold doesn't last much longer, the grip tightening even further before Hux is shoved away. He stumbles back from the sudden shift, heel connecting with some of the shattered glass on the floor. He lets out a hiss of pain but keeps his focus on the conversation.

She wanted to kill Ren. Of course that excuses him of anything. Of being destructive in the aftermath even if it was unwarranted. ]

She's in the resistance's fold, Ren, in case you'd forgotten. They want both of us eliminated. Its a consequence of being on opposite sides.

And what would you have me do? [Already he's left her alive, still breathing and disarmed against better judgment. Somewhere in the back of his mind there's a whisper of a premonition, a promise that leaving her intact was a decision he'll inevitably come to regret.

But the Nest demands what it demands.]

Should I have run away? Begged for mercy? Would that have satisfied you, General?

[ Ren's anger is palpable. The frustration underneath is also easily picked out—Hux is used to answering in the same fashion. Years of working together with Ren has trained him to respond to violence with violence. Backing down in front of his subordinates had not been an option.

Here it's different. They had an agreement, because the last time they fought, it hadn't ended well for either of them. Hux still felt the residual sting of that when he thought about it. So, instead of lashing out, he takes a deep breathe and exhales in a quiet way. Reaching forward, he grips the front of Ren's shirt and steers him to sit on the bed. ]

Sit, let me look at that wound. [ Strategy point one: change the topic, make them comfortable. Never mind that his own foot was still bleeding, albeit sluggishly. ]

Is she disarmed? [ Not as an inflammatory question as some others he could ask. Hux limps over to the bathroom, coming back with a small bowl of lukewarm water and a rag. ]

[Shockingly enough, the shift in focus works. Still flush from adrenaline and simmering fury (ebbing with each passing second) his attention drops to the saber at his hip, unlatching it and rolling its weight across his palm. Anakin Skywalker's saber— his saber. It feels right. Better than the presence of his grandfather ever had at his side, and the knowledge that it exists alongside its twin (left in Ahsoka's care) leaves the faintest sliver of hope in his restless heart.]

She is.

[Defanged and declawed, as far as both Ren and Hux are concerned.] See to your foot first. I don't need your pain as well.

[ With his free hand, he drags a chair over to the foot of the bed, setting the bowl on it, rag hanging over the edge. Leaning towards the side, he picks up the rubbing alcohol that's still on his side table. The one time not putting something away seems to be in his favor. That's set next to the bowl before he rounds to where Ren is sitting, keeping weight off his injured foot. The symbiote was already making work of the cut, bleeding having slowed almost entirely.

Moving more into Ren's space, he peels away the fabric from the wound, mouth pulling down at the corners. It's unpleasant looking, scorched at the edges and an angry red at the center. ]

Without her saber she should be less in our hair. [ Not that he necessarily agrees with taking her weapon away in this setting, all things considered. But the strategist in him is pleased by it. He dips the rag into the water, wringing it out a little and then going to gently clean the wound on Ren's side. A rehash of the last few days. ]

Thankfully she was fighting you with that and nothing else, though. This would be worse, otherwise. [ He thinks of Ren in the snow, blood seeping down his side from a much nastier injury. Unintentionally, he tenses, pressing the rag hard against the cut. ]

[At that increase in pressure, Ren tenses with a clipped growl, wincing hard enough to buckle his posture. She'd pierced the flesh above his fourth rib— deep, owing to the near immeasurable heat of the blade— short of the mark that was his heart: too shallow to strike it regardless, but only just.]

—you give her too much credit. [Stubbornly gritted out through clenched teeth. Whether he's wrong (he is) or not, the last thing he intends to acknowledge right now is the possibility of her success.]

[ The low growl shakes him from his memory and he immediately eases up, careful as he pulls the rag away to make sure it doesn't catch on the skin. With the rag no longer blocking the wound, he can get a better look at it– the cut goes deep. Any further and he'd be seeing the bone on the other side, something that has him swallowing down an uncomfortable reaction.

Practiced motion has the rag cleaned off and water replaced with damp dabs of alcohol. Absently his free hand sets on Ren's knee, a reassurance and a balance all in one as he leans closer. ]

Easy, I'm not insulting your abilities. Focus on something, this will sting. [ Ren only gets a moment before he presses the cloth to the injury. If he wasn't heeding his warning, that was his problem. ]

[There's a pitched howl for it, his fist slammed down against the edge of the bed, knuckles white where they knit into the covers. From there, it's bearable. Breathes out through his teeth, in through his nose and lets the rest drift away.]

Gchhh— [Press past it. Master the pain.] You said you encountered her.

Did she recognize you?

[ Hux keeps his hand steady as he presses the rag against Kylo's side. He's seen enough of Ren's outbursts to be unaffected by the anger, by the outward lashes. This is more of a reaction to the pain, but it's close enough. There's a loud exhale and he knows that Ren is adjusting. Or ignoring. ]

I did. [ Carefully, he pulls the rag away, just dabbing at the sections he seemed to miss. The rag gets placed back into the bowl. He'll need gauze and patches for the next step so he straightens again, avoiding putting any pressure on his one heel. ]

Not right off. I didn't know her name either; I don't think she appreciated that. [ Picking up the bowl, he disappears to the bathroom, coming back a few minutes later with gauze, patching, tweezers, and a fresh rag with the changed out water. Perching next to Ren on the bed, he crosses one leg over the other, unceremoniously picking glass out of his skin. There's mostly silence on his end as he goes through the same cleaning motions, only sucking in a breath at the sting of alcohol. ]

I doubt it would have made a difference. [Ren, after all, knows much more than just her name, and the livid flame she nurses finds little rest because of it.

He watches Hux work without any direct criticism, one arm tucked against his side to dislodge any lingering pain. It's appreciation— as much as he ever knew how to give it.]

She'll ruin you, if you let her.

[~~Spoken from experience, even if Ren refuses to admit it.~~]

Still. Know thine enemy. [ Maybe not something he has to tell Ren, considering the strange bond he and Rey seemed to share through the Force. But it was reassuring to vocalize. A focus point.

Hux falls quiet again, carefully wrapping his foot with the gauze and bandage after he's sufficiently picked the glass out and cleaned the cuts. He tests his weight, satisfied when there's only the twinge of open wounds and no glass. Ren gets a bandage as well, just to keep it clean for the next day or so while the symbiote does its work. ]

Well then. [ Hux stands up more fully, expression taking on a sharpness. ] We'll just have to be sure we don't let her.

[ His smile is thin, shrewd, as he reaches out and pats Ren on the shoulder before moving towards his dresser. ]

[It's a comment that runs parallel to his own train of thought in regards to Rey— and there's something to be said for the fact that hearing it from the General acts as a balm to his own fears, his insecurities. Less like standing on fractured ice, and more importantly, less isolating.

Even his own brood failed him on that front.

At least Hux, mentally brutal and physically tempered, was ever at his side for better or worse without the luxury of petty promises. No validation, no needling demands. Perhaps it's the benefit of prior coexistence at Snoke's heels— or perhaps their newfound bond has simply permeated the surface of their mental armor— it's difficult to guess. Still, all that matters is that it's appreciated beneath all his stubborn ire and contempt. He reaches out as Hux starts to withdraw, broad fingers over the fine bones of Hux's wrist.

Not a demand for attention, but a request.]

Thank you.

[Said with an unfixed stare, Ren's eyes locked on the floor near his feet rather than turned to face the General where he stands.]

[ He's turned away, line of sight focused elsewhere when he feels the curl of fingers along his wrist. Skin to skin contact, the warmth from Ren's fingertips sinking in, the fine hair on his forearms raising at the odd temperature shift. Hux stops immediately, tilts his chin down to glance at the connection point.

There isn't a demand, but the underlying request is more compelling. It feels like they're both holding their breath.

The tension morphs at Kylo's words and for once, he finds himself without an adequate response. This isn't one of his troopers thanking him. None of the commanders, officers, not any of the other hosts. It's Kylo Ren, someone he's struggled with and alongside for years.

He doesn't think he's ever been thanked like this in his whole life.

Something about that tightens in his chest, pushes the air up in his windpipe and catches. Maybe it's the dizziness during that has him reaching out with his free hand, fingers hesitant as they slide along Ren's jawline and tilt his face up. Maybe it's the confusion too, that leads him to lean down to brush his lips along Ren's, as though he'll get his breath back this way. ]

Edited 2016-09-06 06:03 (UTC)

[Mara feels like a sleeping volcano over the mental link. There's an element of pressure, like a great force is being held back.]

( General Hux. )

[Surprise!]

[ Quite the opposite, Hux's mind leaves the impression of smooth steel walls, blank and uniform. Orderly. There aren't any doors here, nothing so easily accessible– so maybe in this way, they're similar. Holding a part of themselves back.

Still, her pressure doesn't bother him. He's too used to Kylo Ren and Snoke. ]

( May I help you? I don't believe we've been acquainted. )

[ Never mind that the mental link within the nest could easily give him answers. ]

[Prying into Mara's mind will reveal the tall black walls and smooth panels of the Imperial Throne Room, quiet and cold and contemplative. Safe, but the pressure continues to build.]

( Mara Jade. I talked to a man name Kylo Ren recently. You're familiar with him? )

[ Hux doesn't make it a habit to pry too much. People have secrets for a reason. But there's the brush of minds and the curiosity is strong. Being met with the mental image of something so obviously Imperial only ratchets that tugging interest up more. ]

( Well met. I'm very familiar; we've worked together for a few years now. )

( He told me to contact you if I ever needed assistance. )

[Which, uh,]

( I don't need assistance. But since we're now allies, we should... get to know each other. )

[There's a slight twinge of impatience at the phrase. 'Get to know each other', like they're going to have tea and biscuits, ugh. She has no time for such vapid niceties.]

COMMAND over oneself and others	AMBITION nothing will stand in my way
ORDER chaos will not be tolerated	MANY over the individual

04. mental link

After the Rey fight, obviously

good lorde

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im just following my kokoro

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